


It's Our Paradise; It's Our War Zone

by Rinzler



Category: The Flash (TV 2014), The Flash - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-24
Updated: 2016-03-24
Packaged: 2018-05-28 20:43:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6344440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rinzler/pseuds/Rinzler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You think you can do that? You think I want this?”</p>
<p>“I know I can. I know you do.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Our Paradise; It's Our War Zone

“I told you not to move,” Len growls low in his throat. He reaches his hand up to the middle of Barry’s back and pushes him forward, forcing him to press against the wall.

The entire apartment is stifling, far too hot even for a summer night. The paint feels almost sticky against Barry’s skin, and sweat trickles down his back as he rolls his shoulders at the feeling. Len growls again and pushes harder, the pressure against Barry’s front forcing him to take shallower and shallower breaths.

“Fuck you,” Barry spits back. “I’m not going to give in to you and be whatever you want-”

“You will,” Len says. His voice is dark with anger, swirling with lust, and Barry bites his lip at the sound. “You’ll be whatever I decide you are.”

Barry snorts with derision even as he feels himself growing lightheaded. “You think you can do that? You think I want this?”

“I know I can,” Len retorts. “I know you do.”

Barry starts to laugh in disbelief. It’s choked to a halt when Len reaches his hand up to grip at Barry’s shoulder, tugging him away from the wall. Len’s other hand tangles in Barry’s hair and he uses all his strength to force Barry down.

Barry’s knees hit the hardwood floor with a muffled thump, and he hisses through his teeth at the painful impact. “Ow!”

“No talking either,” Len says, hand twisting in Barry’s hair as he walks around to his front. Barry glares up at him, but Len only smirks back, looking far too pleased about their positions. 

The apartment is darkened, the curtains drawn, only a lamp on the living room side table turned on. Soft golden light illuminates the tattoos on Len’s chest and the sharp jut of his hipbones. The metal of his belt buckle glints as Len tugs the strip of leather off. Len drops his belt to the side, then uses the hand in Barry’s hair to pull him closer. 

It’s unexpected, and Barry nearly overbalances, throwing his hand up with a yelp of surprise to try and stop himself from falling.

He catches himself with his hands braced on Len’s legs, feeling the rough scratch of denim against his palms. Barry looks up to see Len looking far too pleased with himself, and retaliates by digging his fingers into Len’s muscular thighs.

It doesn’t quite get the desired reaction. Instead of letting him go or pulling Barry back up, Len pulls his head back, forcing Barry’s throat into a near-painful arch. 

“You little minx,” Len says appreciatively. “Think you can play me that easily?”

Barry can’t respond, just closes his eyes and gasps as the hand in his hair gives another tug. There’s the sound of a zipper, then the denim fabric under Barry’s hand shifts down, forcing Barry to drop his hands until they’re anchored just above Len’s knees. 

Len manhandles him again, this time pulling Barry back forward. Barry groans in protest, his knees beginning to ache where he’s kneeling on the hardwood floor.

“Open your eyes,” Len says. Barry keeps them closed.

Len sighs. “Open your eyes, Scarlet,” He commands. 

Barry can’t fight back the shudder that hearing that nickname causes, feeling himself blush. Heat rises to his cheeks and spreads down the back of his neck. He opens his eyes and slowly looks up.

While Barry’s eyes were closed, Len had taken off his jeans and briefs, pushing them halfway down his thighs. The muscles in his thighs stand out in sharp relief, the golden light from the lamp mixing with the nighttime shadows of the apartment, casting sharp angles across his skin. His cock is hard, curving upwards towards his left hip, flushed a red that’s nearly purple. Len’s eyes are dark.

Barry bites his lip, the insults he was going to spit dying on his tongue.

“Good boy,” Len says, quieter than before but no less icy. “Now listen to what I tell you. You’re going to put that pretty mouth of yours to use and suck me off.” He slides the hand in Barry’s hair lower until he’s gripping the back of Barry’s neck in a firm hold. “You don’t get to talk. You don’t get to come. Not until I say so. Understand?”

Barry whimpers low in his throat and nods, parting his lips as he leans forward.

**Author's Note:**

> I sin all day, everyday at whyinhades on tumblr.


End file.
